Anything
by Jon'ic Recheio
Summary: A brief scene in a study at 12 Grimmauld Place. Sirius is wandering around depressed and finds Remus reading by lamplight. They manage to summon a moment of contentment between them. Oneshot. Complete.


Author's Note: Hi, my first Harry Potter fanfic. Tell me if I should quit while I'm ahead. In other news, I wouldn't necessarily class this as a slash fic, but if you wanted to think of it that way you could. Or pre-slash even. Or just a friendship fic. It depends on your point of view, take whichever one floats your boat. I'm not picky. Lulz. Enjoy.

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><p>Gray eyes stared down a bleak hallway. A sigh echoed, the footsteps shuffled further, as if a funeral were waiting at the end. Sirius sighed, the rough pull of his hand down the side of his face echoing the scrape of Grimmauld Place on his soul. He wearily pushed open a dark mahogany door and finally found something to put a smile on his face. He'd only been wandering listlessly around for the last hour looking for something to take his mind of this dark, dank, dreary hell.<p>

Slouched in the only plush armchair like his spine had been turned to liquid was Remus Lupin. His silver streaked hair shone yellow in the anemic light from the dusty, ornate lamp on the side table. His eyes were locked on the worn pages of a tome resting on a crossed leg in his lap. He turned the page, the rustling sound of it rattling off the walls of the ancient study.

Sirius stepped farther into the room, making no effort to hide the scuff of his boots on the once-polished wooden floor. Remus looked up, eyes a little bloodshot from straining on a page. He gave a loose smile in greeting, pressing a spare scrap of paper into the page in his book. He closed it without looking, amber eyes the color the lamp wished it were. Like fire-tinted gold.

"Hey," Remus cleared his throat, voice rough from hours of smoky silence. "Hey, Sirius."

"Hey," Sirius knew his response was weak, but he settled into he armchair on the other side of the lamp table anyway. "Bit of light reading?"

Remus tilted the book to cast a pensive glance at the spine. "Not as such, no."

"Research, then?" Sirius prodded, trying to find a better topic of discussion. This one was just pathetic.

"Er, well, sort of," Remus hedged, shaking his head as if to decide what to say next. "It could be useful, but I've a vested interest in this particular subject."

Sirius squinted over at the book. Ah. "You've found my mother's collection of werewolf books, have you?"

Remus gave a nervous sounding chuckle. "I suppose I have, yes." He shifted, leaning over the right side of the armchair and focusing his attention fully on Sirius. "Sirius, your parents had an entirely unhealthy fascination with dark creatures."

Sirius barked out a cynical laugh. "I could have told you that, Moony," he paused, adjusting himself in the lumpy armchair. "But what prompted you to go looking for the evidence?"

"Nothing really," Remus answered after a moment of thought. "I just happened upon it while cleaning earlier. It sort of—grabbed my attention. And I've finally had a quiet moment to look some of the books over."

"So you spend your quiet moments reading morbid literature instead of with your most entertaining and brilliant best mate?" Sirius teased, gray eyes stealing some of the sallow shine from the dingy lamp.

Remus' lips twitched up in a slight smile without his consent. "So it appears, Padfoot."

"How utterly boring," Sirius deadpanned. He flashed Remus a sudden grin as he propelled himself up from his chair. He reached down and seized Remus' hands in both of his and yanked his grinning friend to his feet.

"I suppose this means I'll have to change that, won't I?"

Amber eyes rolled in fond exasperation. "Of course. Why not?"

Sirius' grin turned calculating and Remus was reminded of a mischief-loving teenager looking at him like that when the beginnings of a master plan had started to congeal in his mind. Before Remus could utter a syllable of protest, he was yanked close to Sirius, their chests almost touching. The animagus' hands came up and positioned themselves as if they were about to dance. And with another puckish grin, Sirius spun them off in a quick, butchered version of a waltz.

"Sirius!" Remus yelped, laughing as he tried to keep from mashing his best mate's toes. He shot Sirius a good-natured glare as they danced about the decrepit study. "Why have I got to be the girl?"

Sirius threw his head back in laughter, only to let out a startled yip as they almost careened wildly into a bookcase. He flashed Remus his devil-may-care smile again, blue eyes alight with a life and vitality Remus hadn't seen since they had been forced into Grimmauld Place over the summer. He hadn't realized just how much Sirius' face had changed until that contrasting moment. It was like they were both thrown back fifteen years.

"Because, this was my brilliant plan. And you can't waltz!"

"Neither can you!" Remus countered indignantly as Sirius spun him out then back into his chest.

Sirius' right arm was crossed over Remus' front, their fingers tangled and Remus' shoulder blades pressing into Sirius' sternum. They stood that way, muscles relaxing and Sirius' chin came to rest on the werewolf's right shoulder. Remus felt a gentle breath coast by his ear and it sent chills skittering down his arms. He was suddenly aware of Sirius' return to melancholy.

"Merlin, Remus," Sirius's murmured into his ear, his voice filled with both longing and a sort of passive hatred. His arm twitched tighter. "I can't stand this place. I just can't."

Remus let out a long sigh and turned, pulling Sirius into a proper hug. He was surprised to notice that he needed this too. They held on to each other as if the continued existence of the world depended upon the very notion. Remus felt a fine tremor run through Sirius' bony frame. An answering one bubbled up from his bones. For a moment, he could feel every bit of bitter loathing Sirius held for his childhood home, and an equally strong feeling of helpless anger swirled in Remus' gut.

This house really was hell.

"I hate this place, too," Remus voice was barely a whisper. "And if I could arrange the world so we could both leave it, I would."

"I know," Remus felt more than heard Sirius' words. A long sigh was breathed out into the crook of his neck. "I know you would. That makes all the difference, Moony. No one else wants me free. Just you. Only you."

"I want it more than anything. Anything, Padfoot."

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><p>So, yeah. Did I botch it? Was it a literary masterpiece? Should I quit damaging this good and wonderful fandom? And should I acknowledge that JK Rowling owns this glorious franchise? (probablly, unless I want to get sued for my scholarship money.)<p>

Review!


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